Wild animal on the edge

I'm ignoring the gopher but can feel the tension building. It's interesting how the instant I began applying a few simple generic cosmic principles (you are not there, you have no power, you have no validity in my universe), the tables turned and now I have him where I want him - completely desperate and almost at the breaking point.

So I haven't forgotten how to walk.

Some days it is just too far to everywhere.

I'm out of titles again

This morning I was longing for a blizzard.

The sunset was so nice I finally had to go out there

I didn't go to the pond today

But could see Cashmere and Cashlin lounging around on the bank. Cashmere does some kind of work out there every day now and it is hilarious to watch the baby helping out. She pulls grass almost as fast as her mother can weed eat.

Beautiful day, great sky, nice water, stupid gopher.

I have done nothing productive today, but did imagine what life would be like if gophers were the size of kodiak bears and all their parts enlarged proportionally. They would dig tunnels we could drive volkswagons through, their front teeth would be the size of sheets of plywood, and their claws would be really scary. That would add some excitement to those noises under the living room floor, or walking around outside after dark.

Indolent Weather

Cashmere and the gopher have been working all day.

I wasn't even there today

Went out, took pictures, came back in.

Tom Petty wasn't completely correct. Too much humidity is more than enough.

An almost PETA moment

Earlier I was worried that the gopher might be sick because of my hurtful attitude. I didn't want to kill or injure him, I just wanted him to go away.
By noon I was thinking, "There are 140,000 square miles of empty prairie in any direction that he might want to travel, and lots of good packed earth, why does he insist on working this 100 square foot section of pond berm?"
And now I begin to again understand - Because this isn't normal innocent animal behavior. This mutant gopher is being an animal thug. His digging is like graffiti for punks without thumbs, or fingers, or even arms - just big scary teeth and outrageous claws.
I hope he is sick. I hope he feels rotten in his damp, dark hole and I should have driven spikes into his stupid tunnels while I was out there.

Can't upload pictures for some reason.